


Houseguest

by moonflowers



Series: Harry is a spy and Eggsy is whatever I feel like [3]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Despite these other fun tags, Domestic, Eggsy is Crushing Hard, Estate Agent Eggsy, Fluff, Ghost Harry, Harry is a drama queen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, It's not as sad as it sounds I promise, M/M, Mentions of Blood/Injury, Mild Angst, Somehow, Who keeps ruining his sales, excessive blushing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 19:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9338735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonflowers/pseuds/moonflowers
Summary: Eggsy's finally landed on his feet with his job at the estate agents, and yeah there's one or two bumps in the road, but nothing he can't handle. That is until he hits a slight snag trying to sell one house in particular, whose previous occupant seems unwilling to let it go. Or: How Eggsy Unwin found himself the most unconventional of housemates.





	1. Knock Knock

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't tagged this as major character death, because I don't think it quite fits - Eggsy never knew Harry when he was alive, so he never had to watch him die and then angst over it like in canon, and Harry is still walking and talking to him and stuff. But yeah he is still technically dead, fair warning. This was meant to be more fun ghost shenanigans and less feelings I'm sorry.
> 
> Based on a post (which I can't get the link for to work right now but will be adding when I can) which reads:
> 
> ghost in the house: GET OUT. I WILL TAKE YOU-  
> real estate agent: chill, its me.  
> ghost: oh hey. have you sold it yet.  
> real estate agent: obviously NOT, idiot.

Eggsy let himself in to the house on Stanhope Mews, ignoring the ominous creak of the hinges as he pushed the front door open, purposely not wiping his shoes on the doormat. He ensured it was firmly bolted behind him before falling back against it with a huff, sticking two fingers under the knot of his tie to ease it away from his neck - it'd been a rough day and he was fucking drained, his chest still felt tight and fluttery with the stress of it all. It wasn't like him to be so pessimistic these days now he'd gotten himself back on track, but honestly, the whole thing was starting to look a bit hopeless.  
The picture frames and cases of pinned butterflies that lined the hallway hung at odd angles, unseen by Eggsy as he rubbed a hand over his tired eyes and trudged through to the sitting room. The glass eyes of the taxidermy terrier in the downstairs loo followed his every move as he tugged off his name badge from the estate agents and stuffed it into his pocket. Already, he could hear the crystal drops of the chandelier in the dining room beginning to rattle, water pipes creaking and heaving, kitchen cupboards sliding open and slamming shut of their own accord. Supremely unconcerned by any of these strange happenings, Eggsy plopped down onto the sofa in front of the cold and empty fireplace, folded his arms, and frowned at the carpet. Three, two, one - 

_"Leave!"_

The lights began to flicker. Only slightly at first, a shadowy fluttering, barely noticeable as the hoarse voice grew clearer.

_"Leave this place!"_

The lights were flashing on and off now, stark white and harsh shadows thrown across the walls in jagged shapes. Eggsy fought the temptation to fake a yawn and glance at his watch.

 _"Leave now, or suffer my fate!"_ The voice boomed and rang through the whole house, curtains blowing wildly at the windows, pictures jumping of the walls, crockery flinging itself to the floor and smashing to pieces, doors slamming and paint peeling and pipes hissing - 

The lights shut off abruptly, leaving the house still and dark and thick with silence. Despite himself, Eggsy could hear his heart thudding in his ears, feel it in his neck, made faster in anticipation. The lighting switched back on of its own accord, harsh and too bright, and Eggsy was faced with a man. His once fine suit was dusty and torn and splattered with dry and caking blood, hands grimed with gore worked into his knuckles and under his fingernails, a pair of glasses twisted and shattered sitting on a face ruined by a gaping red mess where one of his eyes used to be, mouth drawn back in a snarl as thick blood oozed down his neck, and - 

"Harry it's me, you berk."

The man froze, his one still-functioning eye blinking in mild surprise from behind the cracked and blood-spotted lenses, the twisted, filthy hands that had been reaching towards Eggsy moments ago dropping to his sides. "Oh." 

All at once the house was set to rights again, electrics behaving normally and every picture frame sitting at a precise right angle, each fussy doily perfectly central in it's place. Harry himself became another entity entirely, immediately brightening and looking all dapper again, as per. The blood spatters vanished and each seam of his suit sat straight and tidy, not a hair out of place or a speck of dust to be seen, hands clean and perfectly manicured, his glasses fixed and face whole once more, and smiling down at where Eggsy sat glowering on the sofa. 

"Hello, Eggsy."

"Why you got to be such a drama queen about it every time?" Eggsy grumbled as Harry settled himself next to him on the sofa, making no dent whatsoever in the well-worn cushions. "Can't you tell it's only me and stop this shitshow you insist on _every fucking time_ before it even gets goin'? No offence mate, but I hate looking at your gammy eye." He was serious - the first time he'd seen it he'd nearly vomited, and every time since it had left him feeling out of sorts and more sad than he had any right to be.

Harry's lips thinned. Eggsy knew he hated any reference to his... mishap, but he was pissed off with him for screwing up another sale and he could fucking well deal with it. "Now that was hardly polite."

"And your way of sayin' hello is?"

"I suppose you have a point."

Harry had died in the States, doing something highly classified, apparently, though he always looked haughty and smug when he said it, clearly itching to tell Eggsy what had actually happened. According to Harry, ghosts - though he'd informed Eggsy he abhorred the word 'ghost' and all its connotations, but if pressed would consent to being referred to as a 'spirit' for ease of conversation - weren't stuck where they died. Instead they ended up wherever had meant the most to them in life, or wherever their unfinished business lay, depending on the individual. Common misconception, Harry had once told him, sniffing primly into his teacup. Eggsy didn't think he could actually drink the stuff, but he seemed to enjoy the ritual, and Eggsy would have felt a dick for calling him out on it.

"Would you be so kind as to stay a while?" Harry peered at Eggsy in that hopeful and oddly puppy-like way that he really should have been immune to by that point, "I've been terribly bored lately."

"'S that so?" Eggsy raised his eyebrows. "Wouldn't have thought you'd be able to find the time for that, what with the eight potential buyers you've scared away in the past month," he said sourly. "Nine, counting today."

"Sorry," Harry sniffed, looking the least sorry Eggsy'd ever seen anyone look, "they were going to move my things."

"You're fucking _dead_ Harry," Eggsy rolled his eyes and let his head tip back against the sofa, "the fuck d'you need butterflies and drinks cabinets and fucking teacups for? Besides to make my job that bit fucking harder."

Harry looked at him evenly for a moment, and Eggsy fought the urge to squirm under his scrutiny. Instead of delivering the scathing words Eggsy knew he deserved for his outburst, he nodded, and nudged the biscuit tin closer to him. Where the bloody fuck he'd got the biscuits from, Eggsy declined to ask. "I apologise, Eggsy. I can be a little selfish sometimes."

Eggsy shrugged. "Aren't we all?"

"I don't know you as well as I should like my boy, but I know enough to be positive there's not a selfish bone in your body," Harry said with such a certainty that it had Eggsy fighting the warmth blooming across his cheeks, biting back the pleased and embarrassed little smile pulling at his lips. "I always was rather self-involved I'm afraid, and - well, it seems death hasn't improved the matter."

"Nah it's alright bruv, I just - " Eggsy deflated, sinking further back into the overly squashy sofa cushions, rubbing his hand over his face and kneading at the pressure in his temple, "I got a lot on my mind, is all." He hesitated, not sure if Harry really wanted to hear his woes, or if he even wanted to share them with his unconventional mate. But then, in for a penny, in for a pound, and Harry'd confessed all kinds of crap to him that must've been hard to talk about. "Landlord's going to kick me out cos of JB," he said eventually, "and I can't give up the little bastard. I don't wanna move back in with Mum and Dais now they're all settled. I know she'd be happy to have me back, but she's got her new bloke there, and I'd be in the way, especially with a dog an' all."

"I see." Harry appeared to mull it over for a minute, fingernail tapping the rim of a fuck ugly floral teacup that had appeared between his hands from fuck knows where, before saying with such decisiveness that there was no way he hadn't given it some thought beforehand, "you could live here."

"Fuck off," Eggsy snorted, turned his head to the side to look at Harry with amused disbelief. "I can't afford to buy this place. Or rent it, even."

"One would imagine the price would go down somewhat, what with the place being so long on the market now," Harry said, all wide-eyed innocence but for the barest curve of a smirk on his lips. "Inexplicable events and such, a haunting presence..."

"You've - you've thought about this a lot haven't you?"

"Perhaps," Harry said, looking away and shifting minutely where he sat, "I find myself - there's not an awful lot to occupy myself with, when you're not here. You're rather the highlight of my days, Eggsy."

Well that - that was a door Eggsy was willing to leave shut for the time being, at least until he could be sure of having someplace to live, anyway. "You really reckon I could? Live here, I mean?"

"Why not? If I know anything about the man I left this place to in my will, by now he'll be tearing his metaphorical hair out to wash his hands of it."

"You're just keen to have a dog in here again aren't you?" Eggsy said, ramping up his grin to something simpler and brighter than he really felt, "I know you, mate."

"You do indeed," Harry smiled at him softly, before turning his attention back to the ugly teacup, "though there's a little more to it than that."

 _Christ._ Honestly, the paperwork and logistics and all that wasn't really what Eggsy was worried about. Cost of the posh as fuck, central London home aside, it would be all too easy for things to get complicated. Complicated being the understatement of the century - he was half in love with the other bloke who occupied the house for starters. The witty, handsome, and filthy-mouthed bloke who also happened to be dead, just to make things even more fucked up than they already were. But Eggsy had always been an act first, think later kind of bloke, and right now, the need to have a roof over his and his spoilt little pug's head outweighed whatever hang-ups he may have had about Harry. Things would sort themselves out, right?

"Alright then."

The blinder of a smile Harry gave him for that was enough for him to be sure he'd made the right choice. "In that case, welcome home, Eggsy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Instead of the twenty other things I should be doing, I give you this... this.


	2. The Other Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, you twisted my arm. Here's part two, Harry meeting JB.  
> As for ghost rules, I'm mostly leaning towards how things are in Being Human, as far as being solid and stuff goes, but with a few changes.

"Harry?" Eggsy bellowed as soon as he'd let himself into the house, toeing off his soggy trainers before he got a bollocking for getting the floor tiles wet. "You in, mate?"

"Where else would I be, exactly?" said Harry, straightening a shirt cuff as he stepped into the hallway to meet him, as sharp and neat and devastating as ever.

Eggsy's last few trips to the house on Stanhope Mews had been decidedly nicer than the ones before. It was about two weeks since Harry had offered up his home to Eggsy and his dog, and, embarrassingly quickly, Eggsy had gotten it taken off the market and made things all official. The bloke Harry'd left the place to seemed keen to get rid of it, and had agreed to lower the rent to the sake of speed, Eggsy filling out all the paperwork in his office at the estate agents with his colleague Roxy witnessing it all to keep things above board. Ever since then, Harry'd stopped going all Ghostbusters as soon as he heard the door. And thank fuck for that - his sudden and gory appearances had taken years off of Eggsy's life. He much preferred Harry as he was now, suit perfect and every inch the gentleman, greeting him by the front door as though the whole situation was totally normal, and eyeing Eggsy's trainers with a satisfied little nod that he'd remembered to take them off that time. 

"Well, what do you want me to say?" Eggsy said, pulling his hood back to shake off the rain. "I was tryin' to be polite. And 's'not like you're going anywhere fast."

"Thank you ever so much for the reminder," Harry said dryly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I thought you might like to meet the other man in my life, before we move in all proper." 

There was a mortifying pause as Harry blinked at him, eyebrow raised that fractional amount that was just enough to make Eggsy feel like a complete tit as he tried valiantly not to colour at his slip of the tongue. Eggsy had mentioned once or twice in passing that he wasn't seeing anyone, and Harry was an observant bloke - there was no way he'd missed the implication that that in fact meant _he_ was the man in Eggsy's life. He cleared his throat and soldiered on, pushing that completely wrecked train of thought aside and instead looking down to the squirming and huffing and slightly damp pug tucked under his arm.

"This is JB."

JB continued to wriggle as Eggsy quickly handed him over to Harry in an attempt to distract the other man from his runaway mouth and his pink face. The pug waved his paws around and made the funny grumbly noises that meant he'd gotten all excited as Harry reached out, curled his hands around JB's belly to lift him up to his chest.

"Oh, hello my darling," Harry cooed, eyes only for the fat little dog in his arms. Eggsy'd never seen anyone so besotted with JB so fast, himself and Daisy aside. It'd certainly taken his mum a while to warm up to him, mostly due to his habits of wheezing while he slept and dribbling on the sofa cushions. But Harry and JB seemed to be best buddies already - Harry's fingers buried in his fur as he held him close, JB snuffling and licking at Harry's face and wiggling about in delight at all the fuss.

"Looks like I've been replaced," Eggsy said as JB continued his happy whiny grumbling, pleased to be out from under Eggsy's wet jacket and with the nice, dry man who was clearly planning to spoil him to rotten during their stay, "little traitor."

Harry said nothing, just smiled wider, looking about as carefree as Eggsy had ever seen him. Less... well, he looked more _alive,_ as stupid as it sounded. Less cardboard cutout or manikin from a fancy shop window and more human, dimpled cheeks and softly lined skin and holding a very much alive dog, who apparently didn't give a single fuck that his new best mate was technically dead. Which begged the question... 

"So you can pick up the dog fine?"

"It would seem so."

"Then how come I saw you faffing about with the kettle for twenty minutes the other day?" Eggsy said, teasing, and biting back a smirk. "You couldn't pick _that_ up - your hand was goin' right through it."

"I was having a bad day," Harry said crisply, avoiding Eggsy's eye and focusing with sudden intent on scratching JB's chest, clearly in no mood to be teased. "Some days it's harder to hold on than others."

"Alright." That brought up more questions than it answered, but Eggsy was reluctant to spoil Harry's good mood further by digging for answers. It was too easy to forget, sometimes, that he shouldn't have been there at all. "Lucky you do get on, really," he said, "since it's you who'll be stuck with him while I'm at work."

"I'm sure we'll get along perfectly well," Harry said.

"I know." Eggsy watched Harry fuss over JB a minute longer, before the soft, open look on Harry's face was too much. "I'll put then kettle on, yeah?"

 

They sat on the sofa in the living room, rain pattering at the windows and JB curled up in a huffy little ball between them, sinking into a flowery cushion and dribbling on Eggsy's jeans. Eggsy'd made them both a cup of tea as he always did, setting Harry's down in front of him even though he couldn't drink it. He hadn't forgotten the first time he'd made him a cuppa without question, and how Harry had stared at him in a surprise for a moment, before thanking him quietly and hiding his smile behind the ugly china pattern. It sat cooling on the coffee table, on the ponciest coaster Eggsy had ever seen, while he cradled his own mug between his hands.

"I shall enjoy having a dog about again," Harry said, reaching out to gently smooth his hand down JB's back. Honestly, he was worse than Daisy - she couldn't leave the dog alone for two minutes either. "I never missed Mr Pickle so much as until after I - " he paused, visibly winced before getting himself back in check and finishing carefully - "until I found myself stuck here."

"What was he like?" Eggsy asked quietly, before Harry's mood could sour with thoughts of how he'd met his end.

"Rather a terror, I'm afraid," said Harry, perking up, and looking more pleased about the fact that might be expected, "prone to digging up the garden and chewing on slippers. Terribly cliche of him, for all his other charms."

"Sounds a bit like his owner," Eggsy said, "only without the digging and chewing. Though I won't judge you on what you do in your own time, mate."

Harry clucked in disapproval, but passed no comment on Eggsy's ribbing, "He was surprisingly fond of the hairdryer, you know. He'd come running whenever he heard it, throw himself at my feet, and roll over. There'd be no rest until he'd gotten 'dried' as well, the spoilt little thing."

"Cute," Eggsy said, trying not to dwell on how he'd quite like to throw himself at Harry's feet and roll over too. "Well, JB feels pretty strongly about the hoover invading his territory, so you've got that to look forward to."

"I believe I will," said Harry. "I very much look forward to having the both of you to stay, as it happens."

"Yeah," Eggsy shifted on the sofa and looked away, fighting that bloody inconvenient flush that seemed to bloom across his face whenever Harry made a u-turn into one of his unexpectedly sincere comments. "You know how grateful I am, yeah? And that I - without your help - I'm just - " he gave up, sighed in defeat. "Thanks."

"You're quite welcome, dear boy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've changed it to four parts because that's how many little scenes I have planned for this right now, but that doesn't mean it won't get any longer, there's no ending as such.  
> I'm pretty sure the next part - whenever it may come - will have the quality Merlin content we all need.


	3. A Gentleman Caller

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Instead of working on my mini-bang fic like I should have been doing on my day off, I did this. I believe some Merlin was requested.

"Do you have any fucking idea how difficult it was to talk this place up to people with all your weird shit in it?" Eggsy called over his shoulder as he edged around the _fucking taxidermy tortoise_ acting as a doorstop into the guest bedroom.

"Yes, actually," Harry called back from across the landing, where he was moving things about in the bathroom to make some shelf space for Eggsy's toiletries.

"I know you did you twat, it was a fuckin' rhetorical question," Eggsy glared at the sad little reptile as he set down a box of his things next to the bed. "I mean why do you even have that?" he skirted carefully around it again as he left the room, it's little black eyes following him. For the most part, he was willing to leave Harry's odd collection where it was while he lived with him, but that one really might have to go. 

"He was a gift," Harry said, guessing at what it was Eggsy was taking issue with in particular, voice echoing from where his head was deep within the bathroom cabinet. "His name is Byron."

"What? Why?"

"I refused to call him Shelley on principle."

Eggsy gaped in the direction of the bathroom for a moment, not sure whether to laugh or cry at the fucking freak whose house he'd chosen to move in to, before metaphorically throwing up his hands and trudging back downstairs to fetch the second cardboard box. He wasn't due to move in officially until the next day, but reckoned he'd just as well call in to drop off a few things while he had a mo; it wasn't like he had to wait for someone else to move out first or nothin'.

He jumped down the last few steps, despite Harry's frequent warnings that it was a stupid habit to get into when one was prone to wearing socks on a tiled floor, then came to an abrupt halt when he noticed the man standing in the hallway. A tall, bald man, holding a clipboard and a set of keys, looking just as taken aback to see Eggsy as Eggsy was him.

"...Hello." The man said eventually, eyes narrowing in suspicion, lifting his hand to nudge his glasses up his nose. "Who might you be?" It was then he recognised the man's voice - Harry's mate, the one he'd left the house to - they'd talked over the phone a time or two in the past couple of weeks to arrange the terms of Eggsy renting the place.

"Oh shit, sorry," he dragged up a smile and hoped he didn't look as shady as he felt, "I know I'm not meant to be here yet but I still had the key, y'know from work, and umm..." _Fuck._ Now he knew it wasn't just some random bloke who'd wandered in he felt a bit better about his sudden appearance, but that didn't change the fact that this man's dead friend was upstairs, pratting about with loofahs to make room for Eggsy's wide array of Lynx products, and liable to come down at any moment. And where exactly the fuck was JB? The little git usually took the chance to bark at anything out of the ordinary, the one fucking time it would have been useful to have had a head's up...

"So you're the lad who's taking this place off my hands" the man's face relaxed minutely in realisation. "Eggsy, was it?"

"That's me," he kicked up his smile a notch and held out his hand, "Eggsy Unwin."

"Pleasure to meet you in person. My name is Merlin," he took Eggsy's hand. "I - was a friend of the previous occupant."

Eggsy very nearly found himself saying - _oh yeah mate Harry's told me all about you_ \- before nodding and forcibly biting it back. "Nice to meet you properly, bruv."

"And you work at the estate agents, correct?" Merlin peered at Eggsy over the top of his glasses, assessing, giving the distinct and unnerving impression he was back at school and about to get a bollocking for climbing the buildings again. "Which is how you came by the place."

"Yeah, I did a lot of the showings for potential buyers and sort of, umm... fell in love with it?" And it's owner, but there were about fifty reasons why he wouldn't be saying _that_ out loud any time soon. He fought the urge to glance over his shoulder at the stairs. 

"I'm glad you feel that way," Merlin said approvingly, as though Eggsy'd passed some sort of test he wasn't aware he was taking. "As you might have guessed from our previous conversations, I was eager to get someone living in here again. I was merely dropping in on my way home to check a few things over - I didn't think you were moving in until tomorrow, or I wouldn't have just let myself in like this. I apologise for the intrusion."

"Nah mate don't be sorry, like you said I'm not meant to be here 'til tomorrow," he shrugged. "I was just bringing a couple boxes over after work, one less thing to do in the morning and all. Hope that's alright..."

"Of course."

"It's great the place comes fully furnished though. Means I don't have to drag all my shit - stuff - over here across town, you get me?"

"...If its to your taste, i suppose it must be quite pleasant," Merlin said carefully, eyeing Mr Pickle through the open door of the downstairs loo, clearly trying not to be too negative about the house he'd finally gotten rid of in front of its new tenant.

Eggsy grinned and snorted, smothering it into his hand. "Yeah it's a bit different I guess, but it's growing on me." Except for that _fucking tortoise._

"In that case I'll leave you - "

"Eggsy, I know you said you'd feel odd about taking the master bed, but I really won't have you making do with the guest bedroom, not when you're paying rent," Harry's voice came down the stairs and Eggsy winced, bracing himself for the shitstorm surely about to let loose. "And it seems rather pointless considering I don't sleep anyway - " Harry was halfway down the stairs before he looked up and saw Merlin standing there, stopping short and looking slightly less solid than he had a moment before, indistinct around the edges. "Ah. Bugger."

"What the ever loving..." Merlin stared up at him, shock rapidly dissipating and his face sharpening into anger, knuckles pale where he gripped the keys.

"Hello Merlin." Harry blinked at him, wide-eyed and face deceptively innocent, as though Merlin had simply called in for a cuppa and Harry hadn't been dead for four months. He was worse than JB for pulling that shit, and it nearly always worked on Eggsy, the tosser. Didn't seem to have much of an effect on Merlin though.

"Harry _fucking_ Hart," he snarled, and Eggsy almost stepped back a pace, "there had better be a good reason as to why you're here and not in the ground where we _buried you,_ you absolute bastard." 

"I would like to say there's a simple explanation, though I'm afraid I'd be lying," Harry sniffed. "But before you jump to any conclusions, I'm fairly certain I am in fact dead."

"Only _fairly_ certain?" said Merlin dryly, so far handling this a lot better than Eggsy would've expected anyone to. He'd properly flipped his shit when he'd first met Harry, and he hadn't even known him before he'd gotten himself shot in the face.

"Yes well, not being conscious for the funeral itself, it's an assumption I have to make," Harry said briskly. "The last thing I remember is Valentine. And the church." Eggsy frankly had no fucking clue what he was talking about, since Harry hadn't yet shared the circumstances of his demise in detail, but found himself curious to know, if only for the sake of knowing Harry better. "And then I was here."

"And then what?" said Merlin, frown etched deep across his forehead and clutching the clipboard he carried harder with every word - Eggsy knew a safety blanket when he saw one. "That was months ago. Surely you haven't just sat about here all that time."

Harry glowered at him, and Eggsy fought the temptation to either move to stand by his side and soothe him somehow, or to put himself between him and Merlin. He wasn't sure which, and either way he didn't want to think too hard on it. "As I believe I already stated, it's not that simple," he said sharply. "I am dead, Merlin. I spent the first month barely here, flickering in and out of existence. When I was solid enough and of sound enough mind to look in the mirror, all I could see was my face a bloody mess torn asunder by a bullet. Half the time my hands go straight through something I'm trying to pick up." Eggsy shuffled awkwardly, having looked on in discomfort more than once as Harry struggled to grasp a cup or turn the page of a book, once clever hands slipping right through, sighing to himself in frustration. "In moments of extreme emotion, I disappear altogether." Now that one was news to Eggsy - though it did explain the one time he'd called in and Harry had been nowhere to be seen. "I can't leave the house," he continued, "the moment I set foot out of the front door I slip out of consciousness, and wake up sometime later. Usually in the study," he said, with a grimly amused twist of his mouth.

"I'm sorry," said Merlin quietly after it had sunk in. "Harry - I'm so sorry."

"No," Harry shook his head, deflating and weary, hands slipping into his pockets, "no. How could you have known."

"I presume this has something to do with why I've had so much trouble selling the place?" Merlin said with a wry twist of his mouth.

"Yeah it fucking does," Eggsy jumped in, "this tosser was determined to scare off anyone who so much as looked through the window." He shook his head. "Worryin' about people touching his sodding teacups, honestly..."

Harry shot him a glum look of betrayal, and Merlin blinked at him in surprise, as though he'd forgotten he was there at all. "I see. And how exactly did you do that, Harry, if you weren't feeling quite your normal self?" 

"You don't wanna know guv," Eggsy said darkly, eyeing Harry as sternly as he could manage, worried he might flip whatever that supernatural switch of his was and get his gammy eye out. "Don't you dare go all Harvey Dent on me, mate. I've had enough of that to last a lifetime, I don't need to see that shit again."

Harry looked rather like he'd enjoy nothing better than to give his friend the fright of his life, smile all sharp edged and predatory, but he reined himself in when Eggsy gave him another pointed look. "Fine."

Merlin looked between the two of them with an expression that was part surprised, part amused, and part no fucking idea what to make of it all. "Would either of you care to elaborate on that?" 

"You - you're aware of how I was... injured?" Harry began stiffly, and Eggsy wanted to make him a cuppa, or squeeze his shoulder, bring him JB to fuss over, anything to get rid of that pinched, unhappy look on his face whenever he spoke of his death.

"More intimately than I ever wished to be, yes."

Harry winced, but nodded in understanding. "It seems that, when the mood so takes me, I can revert to my appearance at the time of my death. It is admittedly rather gruesome."

Eggsy snorted, both men turned to look at him. "What? Fucking understatement if you ask me." 

"It... seemed a rather effective method of getting people to leave me in peace. Except for Eggsy here, of course."

"So I see."

After a pause where Harry and Merlin appeared to be having a silent conversation using just their eyebrows, Eggsy reasoned there were probably some things they both needed to say. "I'll just give you a sec, yeah?" he slipped out of the room to give the two of them a minute to have a chat without him gawking.

He felt a bit numb, to be honest. When he was with Harry, it was easy to pretend it was all alright, all normal. Like he was just moving in with a bloke he maybe had a little bit of a thing for but he could keep in check, and that was that. He fucking _wished_ that was his biggest problem. But with Merlin there... it was a harsh reminder that Harry used to have so much more, so much that Eggsy couldn't get back for him. It was... pretty fucked up, and that was putting it simply. He fiddled about with his phone for a bit, until he couldn't make himself wait any more, and pushed himself off from the counter and back to the hallway.

"So. Eggsy."

He paused when he heard Merlin say his name, hand on the door frame and just out of sight around the corner.

"What about him."

He heard Merlin snort. "Harry, you're bloody dead, and you've still somehow managed to lure some poor boy into your clutches."

"He's hardly in my clutches Merlin," Harry tutted, "don't try so hard to paint me as a villain."

"I know that look you get on your face when he speaks to you Harry, as rare as it might be."

"...It isn't like that."

"Well what is it like then? Please enlighten me."

Eggsy found he had no wish to hear what it was like for Harry, and stomped back into the hallway. "Sorry," he flashed them a smile and gestured lamely to the abandoned box of his stuff on the floor as an improvised excuse for his reappearance, "thought I just as well get that lot shifted, while you two catch up."

"No, it's time I got going," Merlin said, adjusting his glasses, giving Eggsy a brief smile, "you've a lot to be getting on with." Yeah it was pretty clear he was talking about more than just the box on the floor containing Eggsy's PS4, an armful of hoodies, and a small stack of photos of his mum and dad back in the day.

"Okay bruv," Eggsy said when Harry's gaze remained fixed impassively at the case of butterflies on the wall opposite, "if you're sure."

"Yes. I'll call in again, with your permission of course," Merlin said, as Eggsy nodded his agreement, "to see the both of you. And in the meantime," he looked to Harry, "I'll look into things, as best I can."

What the fuck that was supposed to mean, Eggsy had no idea. Some sort of confidential crap about Harry's super secret ex-career probably, but if Merlin thought he could help Harry somehow, then best of luck to him. Then he was gone, the rest of the world firmly shut out again, he and Harry alone in the hallway. Harry looked all sad, but like he was trying not to look sad, and that only made him look all the sadder. Fuck. 

"Harry?"

"Mm?"

"Did you - d'you want me to go?" he said tentatively, although to be honest it was the last bloody thing he wanted to do, what with Harry looking so fucking _sad._ "Just to give you a minute to - y'know." In the past, whenever he was going through a tricky spot, he'd preferred to do it alone. He'd always found it easier to piece himself back together when there was nobody watching.

"No," Harry said quickly, voice rough and blinking rapidly like he'd just woken up. "No, I - I'd prefer it if you stayed. Please."

"Okay." Like he'd need telling twice. "Want to watch a film?"

Harry nodded, and they went into the living room. As he often did, Harry chose to sit primly in the armchair, leaving Eggsy to sprawl out across the sofa with JB, any unpacking he might have gotten done ignored for the time being. Selfish as it might have been, it felt nice that Harry'd wanted him there, nice to know that his being there made a difference.

"Thank you for staying," Harry said out of nowhere, about half way through _Seven Brides for Seven Brothers._

"S'alright," Eggsy said, eyes on the screen. "It's hardly a chore for me to be here Harry, I fucking live here as of tomorrow." 

"I know, but - it doesn't feel quite so hopeless, when you're here."

Jesus Christ, way to fucking rattle the chains on the box Eggsy had locked his complicated feelings about Harry in. "Well, I ain't going anywhere fast bruv." He shot him a grin and a wink, couldn't help but think _Yep I feel the same about you._

"Good," Harry said, the last of the tension draining from his shoulders as he settled back into the chair to watch the rest of the film.

Eggsy didn't go back to his flat that night, instead sleeping in his new home for the first time a night earlier than expected, telly flickering as he dosed off on the sofa, Harry fussing about to find him a blanket and make sure he was comfortable. Of course he was sodding comfortable - Harry was there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be pure lighthearted ridiculousness, but every now and then I'm like OUCH boys stop it, where did these feelings come from.


	4. Hands On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have a proper Valentines day fic, so have this instead.  
> Touching. In the most U rated way imaginable.

Eggsy had been living at the house on Stanhope Mews for two weeks now, and things were going about as well as he could have expected. Everything ran along smoothly enough as he settled into a routine - he'd get up and take JB out, by which time Harry would have appeared to make them both a cuppa, Eggsy would dash off to work, sell houses and annoy Roxy, come home, maybe watch a film or just chat with Harry, go to bed. And that was fine, apart from the odd moment he'd slip up and let himself stop to think about it properly. Yeah, he avoided that if he could.  
Merlin had called in again the week before, he and Harry shutting themselves up in the study for an hour while Eggsy lurked outside the door, trying to listen in until he'd felt weirdly guilty about it and went to lurk downstairs instead. But Harry'd seemed a bit more chirpy afterwards, so he guessed it must've gone okay. And he'd only appeared accidentally in the bathroom without warning while Eggsy was in the shower once, before apologising profusely and straight up vanishing again, so Eggsy decided to count that as a victory. At least he hadn't been using the loo.

"All of it?"

"Yes, I'd use the whole pack if I were you. If there's leftovers, it'll save you cooking again tomorrow evening."

"Alright. How do I - ?"

"The knob on the left."

"Hey Harry - "

"If you make a penis joke, I'm not helping you anymore."

"Fine. Just one onion yeah?"

"That should suffice, yes."

It was a Tuesday evening, and Eggsy and Harry were cooking together, side by side at the counter, as Harry talked him through the steps. Eggsy still felt a bit weird about cooking in front of him considering he didn't eat, but, like with the cups of tea that remained untouched but were very much appreciated, he was getting used to it. Ever since he'd moved in, Eggsy's mum had been pestering him to come and see his new place, but he'd been putting it off. Mostly because Harry would inevitably have to sneak off and hide himself away upstairs the whole time, in his own sodding house, which didn't fuckin' sit right with Eggsy at all. That and he knew his mum would have some questions - understandably - about why he hadn't bothered with changing the fucking weird decor, or at least gotten rid of the bugs on the walls. But Harry had encouraged him to have his family over, gently reminding him that it was in fact Eggsy's house now, and he should invite over whoever he wished. He'd even reluctantly offered to temporarily relocate Mr Pickle during their visit - having another person's dead dog mounted on the bathroom wall was hard to explain under any circumstances. 

And Eggsy couldn't fucking shoot down that sad and hopeful puppy face that he swore Harry did on purpose, so he'd relented and asked just his mum and Daisy over for starters. He'd even said he'd cook something, which had his mum's eyebrows raised in surprise. Eggsy could cook yeah, but in more of a boil some pasta or sling some fish fingers in the oven kind of way. Y'know, the necessities. Which was why he was currently standing alongside Harry in the kitchen, the latter watching his every move as he browned the mince for a lasagne - not extravagant by any means, but a bit more complex than what his family used to throw together when they'd all lived back at the flat, or what Eggsy bothered with when it was only himself that needed feeding. Harry had encouraged Eggsy to start eating better when he was in the mood to listen, teaching him how to make the best of what he knew already and improve upon it. Though he did admit his own repertoire was somewhat limited - he'd always preferred to go out to dine, or eaten at work, he'd said wistfully, before Eggsy had started teasing him about the stripey apron he had hanging on the back of the door to take his mind off it.

"Can you still smell stuff?" Eggsy asked, the rich meat and tomato scent making his mouth water as he stirred the pot, trying not to splash any more of the sauce across the counter than he already had. Although it was almost worth it for the way Harry would roll his eyes and sigh and try not to smile when he told Eggsy to be careful - 'you're making a lasgane, Eggsy, not mixing cement.'

"Of course," said Harry, as though it was obvious, "I can still see and hear, why should my other senses have suddenly abandoned me?"

"I dunno..." Eggsy hesitated, unwilling to say so bluntly that it just didn't seem like something dead people should be able to do. "You can't eat yeah? So I just sort of assumed."

"I can eat," Harry said slowly, "on a good day, when I'm, you know..." he waved his hand and Eggsy got his meaning. _Solid._ "But since my body doesn't need it like it used to, it doesn't stay down very long," he grimaced apologetically. "It seems it doesn't know what else to do with it." That suggested a bit of unpleasant trial and error on Harry's part in those first few weeks after he woke up, the poor bloke. Sounded pretty fucking miserable, actually. "I can still taste, as well." 

"Okay. Good to know."

Harry didn't answer but gave him a brief smile, looking quickly down at the spitting frying pan and standing close enough that Eggsy should have been able to feel the warmth off of him, under other circumstances.  
It occurred to Eggsy then that not once had he touched Harry. Never tried to shake hands during those first few awkward meetings after Harry had scared the shit out of him then apologised for doing so, even though the man was all about fucking _manners._ Though he supposed that might have been self-preservation, on Harry's part. They'd never brushed elbows sitting on the sofa, or knocked hands stroking JB, bumped into each other while Eggsy was rushing about getting ready in the mornings. And Eggsy wouldn't call himself clumsy, but they were the sort of little touches that couldn't normally be helped, no matter who you were. Which probably meant that Harry was avoiding touching him on purpose. It stung a bit, but if that was how he wanted it, Eggsy wasn't about to invade his space anymore than he already had.

"Have you grated the cheese?"

"Yeah."

"Lovely. Now, watch you don't overdo it with the milk, or the sauce will be too thin."

"That enough?"

"Perfect, Eggsy."

Technically, he could touch him - Harry was solid enough most days, faffing about with his butterflies and teacups, reading a book or fussing over JB. Corporeal, he called it. He could pick stuff up easy enough most attempts now, though apparently he still disappeared if he got proper stressed out. Eggsy'd only ever seen it that one time in the bathroom, but Harry claimed it happened mostly at night, when he was as close as he could get to sleeping and slipped back into hazy, waking dreams of his own demise. It was obvious he didn't like to talk about it much, his face got all tight and pinched as he forced the words out through his teeth, hands tensed but blurred around the edges with the discomfort he vainly tried to smooth over. 

"Is this okay? Looks a bit thick to me."

"Perhaps a little. Add a splash more milk if you wish. This is, as they say, your show."

It was times like that it really got to Eggsy that he couldn't touch him. He was tactile when he cared about someone - he was always sweeping Daisy or his mum into his arms, friendly slaps on Jamal and Ryan's shoulders, tackling them off the sofa if the shits deserved it, pressing a smacking kiss to Roxy's cheek just to see her promptly swat him off then fuss over the smear in her make up. And he _wanted_ to touch Harry, even something small and inconsequential seeming, just a hug or... But he didn't want to make Harry uncomfortable, if he didn't want Eggsy touching him. If things were the other way around, Eggsy'd probably be a bit funny about it too. On darker days he found himself wondering what the fucking point was in worrying over it at all - even if they did get more intimate around each other, it would only set them off on a path that was ultimately a dead end. No pun intended. 

Harry must have seen all that worry written across his face, or perhaps just noticed that he'd stopped stirring the pan of white sauce and it was starting to stick and burn, because there was suddenly a hand on his shoulder. Eggsy honest to God jumped, flicking a glob of sauce onto the hob where it sizzled thickly. He turned to look at Harry, blinking in surprise, feeling his mouth drop open but unable to close it or think of anything to fucking say.

"Are you alright?" Harry said, brow creased with concern as he reached across to take the pan from Eggsy and remove it from the heat before he could fuck it up any further. "You looked out of sorts."

Eggsy could _feel_ Harry's hand on him, not warm, which was weird but expected. The weight of it was enough though, solid and real, and pressing gently on his shoulder. "Yeah," he said when he eventually found his voice again, grinning at Harry and turning back to the sauce, "yeah, I'm fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks guys, this has been a fun one. I might do a little more if you have any requests - and even I'm kinda mad they haven't kissed, so that might happen.  
> But I can't see a way for this to have a proper, satisfying ending that makes sense, so it'll probably always be left hanging to some degree.


End file.
